It's not Right but it's Okay
by Bella.Diggory
Summary: Katniss never meant to win the Games, but as she looks down at Peeta's body she knows she has. At least now she can go home without any complications and be with the one person she truly loves... Three-Shot, Fluff, Katniss/Gale
1. Part I: Stupid Idiot

**Disclaimer: **I do not own The Hunger Games.

* * *

**It's not Right but it's Okay**

Three-Shot

Part I: Stupid Idiot

**Katniss's POV**

"Greetings to the final contestants of the Seventy-forth Hunger Games," comes Claudius Templesmith's voice, booming into the arena. "The earlier revision has been revoked. Closer examination of the rule book has disclosed that only one winner may be allowed. Good luck and may the odds be ever in your favor."

"They never meant for us both to win," I say to myself as the truth – what I have already known all along – sinks in. "It always had to be just one," I raise my voice so Peeta can clearly hear me.

"If you think about it, it's not that surprising," he agrees as he looks at me with longing and sadness. "It always had to be you, Katniss. It's always been you, from the very start. Why do you think you're the first one everyone else went after?"

"Because I scored an eleven, it was the highest score. They always go after the-"

"You're wrong, Katniss," he cuts me off. "I mean, yeah you did set the record this year, but that's not why they went after you. They went after you because they could see how strong you were; you intimidated them."

"Okay, who cares why they went after me," I breathe. "That doesn't matter anymore. What matters is that neither of us is going to go home until we figure this out. We need to think. We need to-"

"Figure this out?" he cuts me off again. "Figure out what, exactly?"

"How to get out of this," I say stupidly.

"How to get out of this?" now he is smiling, laughing, almost. "How to get out of this is for one of us to die. And standing around talking about a solution to an impossible plan is just prolonging the inevitable. Besides," he lowers his voice as he leans into me. "We both know the longer we do the more bored the audience is going to get, and the more bored they get the more enthusiastic Claudius is going to get about sending us another terror," he finishes as he pulls his head away from mine and lets out a sigh, smiling.

"You're impossible," I tell him, and he lets out a laugh.

"I was just thinking the same thing about you," he tells me.

"But this doesn't have to be," I tell him as I feel the Nightlock berries resting, waiting, in the pouch strapped to my belt. He looks at me curiously as I loosen the pouch and hold it out in my hands, emptying the berries into Peeta's hand. "No!" I stop him as he begins bringing the sinister things to his mouth.

"Katniss, you just-"

"No," I tell him as I pull his hand into my own and scoop some up. "It doesn't have to be impossible to figure out who has to die… Not if we're both already dead," I explain as I begin lifting the hand containing the berries to my mouth, but Peeta reaches out to stop me.

"On the count of three," he tells me. "Together."

"Together," I agree.

"But first," he says as he leans into me and kisses me softly. "I just wanted to do that one last time," his words, though however simple and pure, leave me with a feeling of a double-meaning, and I can't control the suspicious chill that rushes up my back. He smiles at me while saying, "One."

I close my eyes and turn my head, opening my eyes to look over at the Cornucopia one last time before never seeing it - or anything else – again. "Tw-" the sound of my voice is drowned out by the harsh and familiar sound of the canon blast. "No!" I scream as I drop the berries from my hand and look back over to Peeta, but instead of seeing him standing there smiling at me, his lifeless and pale body lies at my feet. "No!" I scream again as I drop to my knees and crawl over to him, placing my hands upon his shoulders and looking into his still eyes.

Tears are clouding my eyes and blurring my vision as the voice of Claudius Templesmith fills my ears. "Ladies and Gentlemen, I am pleased to present the victor of the Seventy-forth Hunger Games," he calls out cheerfully as I lean my forehead onto Peeta's, and lean my lips into his one last time.

"You stupid idiot," I tell his lifeless body as I drape my hands over his eyelids to close them.

Sitting up I look up at the sky. "Katniss Everdeen of District Twelve!"

Peeta swore from the moment of arriving into the arena to protect me, and protect me he did, I think as I look over at his body one last time. But it shouldn't have meant his death… It shouldn't have meant any of their deaths. It's not right that any of us had to die, but as far as the Capitol is concerned, it's okay.

TBC


	2. Part II: Back in the Capitol

**It's not Right but it's Okay**

Part II: Back in the Capitol

**Katniss's POV**

"So, Katniss Everdeen - Girl on Fire," Caesar Flickerman says as the applause from the audience dies down. "How does it feel to be victor?" he asks. "And not only _victor_, but the first of your district in the past twenty-four years. How does that feel? What was going on in your mind after you heard the news that there could only be one victor?"

Searching the audience I find Cinna. "The realization that I already knew that there could only be one victor," I say honestly, now looking back at Caesar. "Every part of me was hoping that what my intuition – and Claudius Templesmith – was telling me about one victor was my imagination, a hallucination. But it wasn't, and as soon as I realized that I knew what I had to do to make it home."

"So you knew then that Peeta would eat the berries beforehand?" he asks, leaning forward in his seat with curiosity knitting in his eyebrows.

"No, I didn't," I shake my head, smiling. "Actually, he beat me to the punch."

"So then you were going to eat the berries as well," he concludes as he leans back in his seat, crossing his leg over the other and pulling it into his chest.

"I know it seems weird, but from the moment I entered the arena I knew Peeta would always find a way to protect me from the other contestants. He spent the first few hours leading them away from me, when the entire time I thought he was plotting with them on ways to kill me – when in reality; I was planning ways to kill him. I just never thought he would kill himself."

"I see," he says as he drops his foot back to the ground and looks out at the audience. "So, while on the subject of Peeta, I don't mean to bring up such a tender subject. But the two of you – you looked to have quite a few touching moments while in that cave of yours."

"Yes," I say simply.

He nods. "Now, I know you said that you were planning on ways to kill him, but it looked to me, and," he adds, looking out to the audience. "If I am not mistaken all of the viewers watching, that killing him was the farthest thing from you mind in those moments."

"I guess you could say that," I tell him after a moment. "Peeta was… There were so many times when I was afraid of waking up and finding him dead, or hearing a canon fire and looking over and finding him dead. I knew from his initial interview that he did love me, and if anything I wanted his last moments alive to be moments of happiness. I didn't want him to die with a broken heart, giving him mine - if only for a short time - was the least I could do for him."

"So then you did share his feelings in the end?" he asks.

I nod. "Yes, I did," I tell him as I look out to the audience and see a vast majority of them looking up at us – at me – with pained expressions. "Which is exactly why I was going to eat the berries after the count of two, leaving him with good memories of me to take home… But before I got a chance to, he had already swallowed them."

"Leaving you with those memories instead of him," he says with sadness in his eyes. "Which I am sure you will carry with you for the rest of your life."

"Among other things," I nod.

He smiles. "Well, ladies and gentlemen, there you have it – Katniss Everdeen, the victor of the Seventy-forth annual Hunger Games from District twelve!" he says as he takes my hand into his and helps me to my feet. "Everybody give a round of applause for the Girl on Fire!"

* * *

I finger the crown resting in my lap as I watch the land quickly rolling by outside the windows of the train, hearing Peeta's voice in my mind saying over and over again: _"It always had to be you, Katniss. It's always been you, from the very start."_

"Did you know?" I ask as Haymitch strolls into the room, and he looks at me curiously. "About there only being allowed one victor?"

"Of course I knew," he says as he takes a seat beside me and lets out a sigh, placing his hand over mine and looking from the window to my eyes. "It is the Capitol, after all, the more bloodshed the better."

"If you knew then why didn't you tell me?" I ask him, pulling my hand from under his.

"Well I couldn't exactly pick up a phone and call you," he tells me. "Listen, Sweetheart, we all three knew that there could only be one victor from the very start, there was no changing that, no matter what the Capitol said to you in the arena. There has only ever been one victor and there will only ever be one victor. And I'm sure you're not shocked to hear that I put you in my favor, and it paid off, didn't it? First victor from our District in twenty-four years, I'd call that an accomplishment."

"From _our _District, _Peeta's _district," I shake my head. "It should be him sitting on this train going home, not me."

"Why?" he asks me. "Why him? Why is he so much more important than you, hm? Because he's got a family to look after? Because he's good at hunting and is well at providing for people's basic needs of survival?

"No, Katniss," he shakes his head. "Peeta, he was well off – he worked at a bakery and was an only child. But you? You've got a younger sister, and a Mother - from what I hear - who can hardly comb her own hair without a chaperone needing to be present. You, Katniss, you are the important one. If it was either of you to come home it had to be you. And it is, so stop complaining and thank me. You are alive, after all, and you get to go home and see your family and loved ones and live a life most people can't even dream of," he tells me as he places a hand on my shoulder, forcing his gaze onto me. "And if you can't be happy about that, just think how happy it would make Peeta to know you're okay."

"You make it sound so simple," I say as I look up at him bitterly.

He laughs. "You're not the only person on this train who's a victor, Sweetheart. You ever think I might just know what in the hell I'm talking about?"

"Haymitch," I say, inhaling a deep breath and closing my eyes. "I'm sorry – I don't mean to take out my frustrations on you – if anything, you are the reason I am sitting here. Sending me all of those parachutes, basically saving my life again and again… I just never thought winning would be so difficult. I can't even remember most of their names, but all I can see is their faces. And now they are all dead."

"It's alright Katniss," he sighs as he runs his hand over my cheek. "I've been where you have before, and I'm not exactly innocent at taking out my anger on my mentor, either. It is hard, but if you're smart – and I know you are – you won't put up a wall on your memories and bury them away to attack you later. You'll let the people who you care about, and who care about you, help you through it. Don't be an idiot like me and run to alcohol or anything else to hide yourself from the world or from the flashbacks. You made it out alive, so live. Don't make yourself dead just because they are."

Taking his hand in mine I look back out the window. "They'll all hate me," I say, thinking if it was Peeta or me, and knowing how it was I who took out the Nightlock berries and not him.

"No one's going to hate you Sweetheart," he tells me as he runs his thumb across the back of my hand. "You're from District twelve; all they care about is seeing at least one of your faces again. And I don't doubt it that most of them probably thought it would be you, and not Peeta coming home if our District won. Think on that, by winning you made our District that much better, that much happier."

I feel his eyes on me as I watch the rolling scenery outside the window become more and more familiar, and know we are almost home.

TBC


	3. Part III: Home

**It's not Right but it's Okay**

Part III: Home

**Katniss's POV**

The train coming to a stop brings me to my feet. "Everyone is going to be there when those doors open, waiting to greet you and cheer for you," Haymitch tells me as we walk to the said doors, his hand on the small of my back as he guides me forward with a bit more force than I would like. "It might be a little overwhelming, but remember it is just this once; you only have to be in the Games once, so just smile, and before you know it everything will be back to normal."

"Normal," I say skeptically. "Except for the part about living in the Victor's Village and never having to scrounge for money or food again. And about having to deal with this again in a few months as I make the Victory Tour around all of the Districts, and having to go back to the Capitol every year for the rest of my life to mentor other tributes."

"Well there's that, yeah," he nods as we stand before the closed doors. "Just remember what I said – this one time will be over before you know it. And just be thankful the doors are opening to your own District, and not to the Capitol," he is right, that _is_ something to be thankful for. I nod once and wet my lips, preparing myself for the worst. But as the doors open, all I see are smiles and tears. Cheers of joy fill my ears and I really can't help but to smile at seeing all of their lovely faces again. Even Peeta's parents – though solemn looking – are smiling.

"See, District twelve," Haymitch whispers in my ear as he forces my feet to move from the train. "You're home so they all love you."

My eyes scan over the crowd, and quickly find Prim, Mom and Gale.

_Gale… _

Tears cloud my eyes as I push myself away from Haymitch and rush myself head-on into the roaring crowd. I feel hands patting my back and voices offering their congratulations and pride in my victory; finally District twelve has won again! I ignore them all and push myself forward, ignoring questions of how it feels to be home again and focusing only on what is in front of me.

I slam myself into him and feel his arms wrap around me, and know I am okay again. I look up into his eyes. "Gale," I whisper, and he tightens his arms around me and sways gently back and forth with a small smile on his lips.

"Hey, Katnip," he whispers back as he leans his forehead against mine. He closes his eyes, but I can't take my eyes away from him – I don't even blink as I run my fingers into his hair and let a small – involuntary – sob escape my lips. At the sound his eyes shoot open, and I tighten my hold on him. I feel the muscles in his arms flex as I am lifted from the ground.

I hardly know what direction we are headed, or who is saying what as he continues carrying me away from the crowd.

Slowly the noise dies down as we make our way further and further from the gathering of people, and as I look around I see that we are headed to his house, and I tighten my arms around him and drop my head against his shoulder and just weep. He lifts me higher from the ground and readjusts his arms around me as we round a corner, and I slide my legs up and allow him to carry me as he would a small child.

I hear a door click shut and when I open my eyes I see we are now inside his house. Springs squeak as he sits us onto his and his younger brother's bed, but he does not release me. Instead, he just holds me and rocks me slowly, all the while his forehead pressed against mine and his eyes closed with a what-looks-like pained expression across his face.

"I never thought I'd get a chance to do this," he says as I am able to calm my hysterics and look up at him, tears still rolling freely from my eyes.

"Do what?" I ask as he slides his fingertips across my forehead to brush away a strand of loose hair.

"Hold you," he tells me. "When you were in the arena you had Peeta, and then the rules changing to having two victors from the same District…" he trails, his eyes closing as he loosens his grip, and slowly slides me from his lap and onto the bed. He stands and places his forehead into his hand and looks over at me. "I watched every time the two of you held each other – every time you kissed, I was watching. Wondering, wishing, hoping…" he trails, and I feel a whole new batch of tears coming, but swallow them down.

"Gale, you have to know why I did that," I say shakily, and he pulls his hand away from his head and crosses his arms over his chest.

"Because you love him," he whispers, and I see for the first time tears clouding his eyes.

"No," I tell him as I look down at the ground, and close my eyes. "Gale, I never loved him… I was only doing what I did to stay alive. It was so hard to do… the only way I was even able to was by forcing my eyes to see him as you, by training my ears to hear his voice come out as yours. When his arms were around me I felt yours, and when his lips were on mine…" I trail, hugging my arms around myself and allowing the tears which had threatened to come only a few moments ago fall freely. My body shakes, and I fight to regain control of myself, but I just can't.

I cry for I don't know how long, and by the time I am finally able to speak clearly again, I sniff my nose and look up at Gale. He is standing motionless, watching me with his arms now hanging freely at his sides. "Please," I say weakly. "Say something Gale." He inhales a deep breath through his nostrils and walks over to me. Dropping to his knees before me he looks deeply into my eyes and cups my face between his hands. I look at him with wet eyes and reach my hands out to his shoulders and cup them around the sides of his neck, allowing my fingers to fiddle with his hair and pull on the ends gently.

His lips press against mine, and I feel every cell in my body turn into a livewire. Heat and chills rush throughout my body all at once, and I feel my stomach erupt into a thousand butterflies, floating and dancing into my lungs and up my throat. He pushes himself closer into me and I lean back, allowing him to fall gingerly on top of me as our kiss deeps.

"Do you love me?" he asks as he briefly pulls his lips away from mine, and I can tell he is struggling just as much as I am to keep them away.

"I always have," I tell him. "Do you love me?"

"I always have," he whispers before bring his lips back to mine.

THE END


End file.
